


blindlove

by bespokenboy



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-03-04 23:47:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3097043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bespokenboy/pseuds/bespokenboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minseok can't see faces, but Joonmyun’s a bit blind in his own way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	blindlove

  
The doctor told Minseok's parents that he wouldn't be alone, that one out of every fifty people also struggle with the condition. But that does little to assuage their fear that their little boy might be hurt by somebody someday and unable to even remember what they look like. They're afraid that their family photo album will mean nothing someday when Minseok flips through the photos with the familiarity of a stranger.   
  
Although Minseok assures his mother that he'll never forget her face, in all honesty, he isn't sure what she even looks like.   
  
He doesn't let her find out that he doesn't know what his own face looks like. When he looks in the mirror, he can discern the individual components of his face. He knows that his eyes are eyes, his nose is a nose, his lips are lips. But as soon as he steps back to take in the entire image as a whole, it's like looking at a tree. Up close, each groove in the bark is unique and distinct, but looking at a forest makes it impossible to tell one tree from the next. Looking at a person, or at himself, he can identify the image as a face, but hell if he can remember the exact features after looking away from the mirror.   
  
His mother used to change her hairstyle all the time just to test his ability to recognize her face. But he just ended up confused all the time. It was like everyday when he came downstairs in the morning, there would be a different mom in the kitchen waiting for him. Eventually she just ended up tucking her hair into a high bun everyday, and that's what Minseok relied on to identify her.   
  
Playing soccer as a kid was the worst. Everyone had black hair trimmed short to keep out of their eyes, and they all wore the same orange mesh jersey. Minseok had no clue what to do when the coach yelled at him to pass the ball to Minho. So he just took his chances and made the shot himself.   
  
If Minseok could recognize facial expressions, he would have seen the disapproval twisting at his coach's lips and the disappointed looks of his teammates. But he was blissfully unaware and burst into tears when his mom pulled him aside to tell him that the coach told her he wasn't being a good team player. Minseok loved the sport, but his face blindness made playing team sports confusing and upsetting.   
  
To his parents' relief, Minseok eventually managed to develop ways to deal with his face blindness that allowed him to function as a somewhat normal, healthy adult. Although most of the people Minseok has met at prosopagnosia seminars tend to be rather introverted and withdrawn, Minseok always challenges himself to interact with people as much as possible, trying to build relationships along the way.   
  
He's quiet, but he's observant, and even though he can't remember what someone's face looks like, he listens attentively to the pitch and timbre of their voice, pays careful attention to their gait and stance.   
  
When Minseok was promoted to store manager, he gathered his staff to explain to them why they needed to keep their name badges on at all times during their shifts. He doesn't like to tell people about his face blindness right away, because he doesn't like to think of it as his identity, allowing it to define who he is. Kim Minseok, the guy who can't recognize himself in the mirror. No, he would rather try to get by on non-visual cues until informing the individual of his obstacle was absolutely necessary for their relationship to continue.   
  
He had to blink back happy tears when he returned to work the next week and was greeted by a rainbow of hair colors, each associate's hair color more ridiculous than the next.   
  
His only full-time worker, Luhan, greets him happily with pastel pink hair and explains, "You told us that hairstyles help you identify people, so we all got different hair colors to help you tell us apart."  
  
Minseok smiles gratefully and bows to his staff because, whether they realize it or not, it really does help, and he's just so touched by their gesture. He thinks he treats his staff well, and their patience and consideration might as well be an indication of how highly they think of him. They always try to warn him when a regular customer, or more importantly, a family member walks through the door. Even though Minseok's mother should be used to it by now, nothing breaks her heart more than being greeted like a stranger by her son.   
  
His condition is a social obstacle on most days, a source of isolation and confusion on the worst days, but Minseok tries to deal with it the best he can.   
  
  
  
  
Joonmyun lives in the bookstore. Well, not quite, but he wishes that he could. He thinks that if he could survive on coffee, pastries, and the company of books, he would never leave the store. But every day, about five minutes before closing, a staff member will gently escort him from his favorite bean bag chair that he tucks away in the corner, hidden from other customers.   
  
He cocks an eyebrow when Sehun, one of the associates he's on a first name basis with, greets him with hair containing more streaks of color than a rainbow.   
  
"That's a good look on you, Sehunnie," he comments, not unkindly.   
  
But Sehun just rolls his eyes and asks, "Here to pick up your reserved copy of Naruto?"   
  
Joonmyun nods eagerly, and Sehun gestures for him to follow along to the register. The rainbow haired boy lingers by the counter for a moment to whisper in the ear of the man standing behind the cash register. The mousy haired man's eyes widen, and he gives a quick nod. Sehun slips away, leaving Joonmyun with the man at the cash register.   
  
"Welcome back, Joonmyun," the man greets him warmly.  
  
Joonmyun is taken back for a second because he's pretty sure he's never seen the man before, but he's smiling at Joonmyun as though they are old friends, so Joonmyun can't help but smile back.   
  
"Thank you!" he says, flashing his megawatt smile. "I believe you have something for me?" He rocks back on his heels expectantly.   
  
"Yes, of course!" The cashier ducks to open the reserved item cabinet, skimming over the sticky notes attached to each stack of books until he finds one that says "Hold for Joonmyun".   
  
"Thank you so much!" Joonmyun gushes.   
  
The man grins, looking up frequently to meet Joonmyun’s eyes while he scans and totals the purchase. Joonmyun's insides flutter at the way the cashier's glances linger in a way that's a bit beyond what could be chalked up to simply "good customer service."  
  
"Take care, and I hope to see you back soon," the cashier says, handing Joonmyun's bag and receipt with a warm smile.   
  
 _I'll definitely be back soon_ , Joonmyun thinks rather giddily to himself. It's been awhile since anybody has looked at him with such attentiveness, greeted him with such a warm familiarity. He might be deceiving himself, but he could have sworn the man's eyes lingered on him as he walked away. The guy was cute. And he seemed to pay special attention to Joonmyun.   
  
He'll definitely be back soon.   
  
  
  
  
Joonmyun is definitely not just looking for an excuse to return to the bookstore.   
  
Zitao's head snaps up when he hears the tinkle of the door as Joonmyun enters, but then frowns when he sees that it's Joonmyun.  
  
"You again?" he asks.   
  
"Rude."  
  
"No, but weren't you just here yesterday?"  
  
"Wasn't your hair a different color yesterday?" Joonmyun counters petulantly.   
  
Zitao self-consciously runs his fingers through his platinum blond strands. "The rest of the staff made me do it," he explains.   
  
Joonmyun lifts his eyebrows, but doesn't question it. He can't imagine what it would be like to have people like Luhan and Sehun as coworkers. What kind of satanic rituals they might subject the others to.   
  
"Anyways, I came again today because I need to find a book because it's Yifan's birthday in two days and-"  
  
"Title?" Zitao asks, ever the efficient salesman.   
  
"Um, no, but-"  
  
"Author?"  
  
"I can't remember, but I can tell you what the plot is about! There's this guy, and he has this wife, and-"  
  
"Let me get my manager," Zitao grumbles.   
  
Joonmyun waits patiently at the checkout desk and almost claps in delight when Zitao drags the familiar man with the sweet eyes and dainty lips to him. Zitao leans in to whisper into the manager's ear, and the man gives a quick, small nod, glancing up at Joonmyun. Just like he and Sehun had done the day before.   
  
"Hi, it's great to see you again," the man says with a warm, gummy grin that makes Joonmyun feel tingly all over. "What can I help you with today?"  
  
"I'm looking for a book. There's this guy, and he has this wife, and-" Joonmyun begins.   
  
"Is the wife insane?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"I think I know what you're talking about, follow me, please."  
  
The man leads Joonmyun to the best sellers section and drifts his fingers across the spines of several dark hardcovers, landing on one with red lettering.   
  
"Is this it?" he asks, pulling it out to show Joonmyun.   
  
Joonmyun's jaw drops. "That's exactly it, wow! You are incredible."  
  
The mousy haired man thanks him shyly, tucking his hair behind his ear. "I really appreciate it. I'd like to think I know my books pretty well."  
  
"Yeah, you definitely do! I'm the worst when it comes to remembering stuff like titles and authors."  
  
"No, I know what you mean, I forget basic stuff all the time," the man assuages him. "In fact, I still call my employees by the wrong name sometimes. Their color coded hair is helping a lot though."   
  
Joonmyun chuckles along with him. So there was a reason for the sudden circus hair. "Don't worry," he says. "I do stuff like that all the time too, it's the most embarrassing thing, calling my clients by the wrong name."  
  
"Oh really?" The man's eyes crinkle in amusement. "What do you for a living?" he asks with genuine interest.   
  
"Um, I answer phone calls..." Joonmyun is thrilled by the attention and interest, but doesn't really like talking about his job to people he doesn't know well enough.   
  
"You're a receptionist? Or secretary?"  
  
"Eh... Not exactly." Joonmyun doesn't go into details, and thankfully the manager doesn't pry.   
  
"Well, you have a beautiful voice," he says thoughtfully, and Joonmyun wants to squeal like a teenage girl that just got complimented by a cute boy.   
  
He leaves the store feeling light and bubbly, but it isn't until he gets home that he realizes that he never even asked for the man's name.  
  
  
  
  
Thankfully for Joonmyun, it is sooner rather than later when he has an opportunity to find out the sweet-faced man's name. He is taking his chihuahua Tianshi out for a walk when he sees a familiar, dainty pair of lips pursed in concentration, head bowed over a book.   
  
Jogging over to the man, Joonmyun breathlessly greets him with a "Hey."  
  
The man looks up and smiles tentatively, intently examining Joonmyun's face. "Hi."  
  
"Um," Joonmyun begins, trying to sound as not awkward as possible, "what's your name?"  
  
The man's smile slips into an expression of confusion. "I'm sorry, but who are you?"  
  
There is a moment of stunned silence. Joonmyun is thunderstruck because the man genuinely looks like he doesn't recognize him. He realizes that he was probably just deceiving himself when he thought that they had some kind of special connection. Those lingering glances, the attentiveness all meant nothing.   
  
"O-oh, I'm sorry. Sorry to bother you," Joonmyun mumbles in apology as he tries to eject himself from the situation as quickly as possible.   
  
He can't help but glance back as he shuffles away with Tianshi in tow. The man is watching him again as he's walking away, but unlike the times they encountered at the bookstore, he's looking on with confusion rather than fondness.   
  
  
  
  
Minseok doesn't look when he feels a body sink down on the sofa next to him. It's probably one of his roommates, a person he's been living with for over a year but he still can't recognize when they bump into each other at the grocery store.   
  
And sure enough, the voice that speaks is Baekhyun's, surprisingly deep and full-bodied for someone of his size. "Hey. Did you not recognize someone again today?"  
  
"How could you tell," Minseok groans in response.   
  
"You're watching tv, which means that you must be really upset," Baekhyun points out.  
  
He's right. Minseok usually hates watching tv because it means keeping track of characters, which means trying to keep track of personalities and stories attached to faces he can never remember. It's difficult enough trying to do that in real life, with real people, which is why he tries to avoid it as a form of entertainment.   
  
But today he's feeling particularly self-flagellating, as well as in need for some purely mind-numbing activity.   
  
"It's fine," he says nonchalantly. When Baekhyun doesn't look sold, he assures him, "No, really. I was just a little disappointed in myself because I'd been doing so well. But, you know, it happens.”  
  
“If you say so, hyung.” Baekhyun pats him on the back and strolls off, singing loudly and off-key.  
  
The truth is, Minseok is the oldest out of his three roommates, so he doesn’t like to burden them with his worries. They’ve already been so understanding and accommodating about his condition, not taking offense when Minseok doesn’t greet them first and always giving him a heads up when someone comes over.   
  
The most troubling thing about the encounter in the park was that the voice that spoke to him had sounded so familiar, yet Minseok couldn’t place an identity to it. Usually Minseok is able to quite quickly identify people based on their voices. He can never remember a face, but he can almost never forget a voice. It’s his way of getting by. But for some reason, the other man didn’t seem to know who Minseok was, either. Perhaps it was nobody.  
  
  
  
  
Joonmyun is definitely not looking for an excuse to return to the bookstore.   
  
But after finishing his latest issue of Naruto, he can’t help but itch for the next installment. Against his better judgment, he finds himself pushing through the door as discreetly as possible, grimacing when the bell tinkles. And of course, the cute manager is standing behind the cash register. He looks up to greet Joonmyun, and there’s not a hint of recognition in his eyes, no suggestion that they had awkwardly encountered each other so recently. Joonmyun thinks for an unreasonable moment that the guy must be incredibly two-faced to treat Joonmyun so warmly and familiarly here, but to have acted as though they are total strangers that evening in the park. Which they are, kind of. But it still stings nonetheless.  
  
Not quite ready to come into close contact just yet, Joonmyun searches the store for his favorite bean bag chair and pulls it into the corner that his friends in the staff affectionately refer to as Joonmyun’s.   
  
Soon enough, he sees feet taking steps towards his cozy little safe place, and soon he’s looking up at Luhan and his pastel pink hair.   
  
“What are you hiding from, Joonmyun,” he says, and it’s more of a statement than a question.  
  
“How could you tell,” Joonmyun responds sheepishly. Had it been so obvious that he was in hiding?  
  
“You’re not even holding a book,” Luhan points out.  
  
Oh.  
  
Joonmyun has his knees tucked into his chest, and he had been taking nervous glances between bookshelves towards the cash register to see if the manager was still there.  
  
"I, um, had a bit of an awkward run-in with your manager the other day," Joonmyun explains with some embarrassment. Good thing Joonmyun knew Luhan from school, or else there would be nobody he would feel comfortable enough with to talk to about the incident.  
  
"Minseok?" Luhan asks, suddenly looking concerned.   
  
"I guess." Joonmyun files away that bit of information for later. Minseok. It's a cute name, trim and tidy like the person it belongs to.   
  
He begrudgingly explains how he had approached him at the park, and how Minseok had been confused, acting as though they had never seen each other before. He doesn't mention that what really crushed him was how Joonmyun sincerely thought that Minseok was interested in him, the way that he had paid such close attention to him before.   
  
"So I'm guessing you don't know about Minseok then," Luhan sighs.   
  
Joonmyun frowns and shakes his head. He hadn't known Minseok's name, let alone whatever Luhan is alluding to.   
  
"Well," Luhan says quietly. "Minseok can't see faces. He's not blind, per se, but his brain just can't process human faces."  
  
Joonmyun probably looks confused, because Luhan continues, "I've known Minseok the longest, so I think I kind of understand how it works. You and me, we take a photograph with our mind every time we see someone. If we fail to recognize them, it's either because the image we're seeing doesn't match up with the one we kept in our minds, or because the photo we took originally was not deemed important enough by our brain to keep. We can't remember the face of every person we've passed by on the street. Some people claim to never forget a face. I guess their brains just keep every single photo.   
  
"For a lot of people like Minseok, their brains discard every single photo. Which is why he doesn't recognize anyone, he has no frame of reference in his mind. So please don't take offense when he doesn't know who you are. It happens to all of his friends at some point. Which is why everyone on the staff here has a different hair color. Makes it a little easier for him to tell us apart."  
  
Joonmyun doesn't know what to say. He wasn't sure what he expected, but it certainly wasn't that. But everything makes sense now. The friendliness, the familiarity, the attentiveness was all because Minseok didn’t want to let it show that he had no idea who he was talking to. He figures that Minseok always has to assume everyone is his friend and treat them as such, so he doesn’t end up isolating the people that matter to him.  
  
"Oh. I didn't know," Joonmyun apologizes intelligently.   
  
"Of course you didn't," Luhan comforts him sardonically.   
  
He pulls himself to his feet, away from the comfort of the bean bag.   
  
"Hey! Where are you going?" Luhan calls after him.   
  
"I'll be back soon!" Joonmyun says over his shoulder as he exits the store.   
  
As Luhan approaches the cash register, Minseok shoots him a confused glance, but Luhan just shrugs.   
  
  
  
  
A couple days later, Minseok is approached by a man with white blond hair parted in the middle. He doesn’t remember meeting anyone recently with such a distinctive hairstyle, so he almost jumps in surprise when a familiar voice chirps, “Hi Minseok!”  
  
“Hi,” Minseok greets him with a warm smile, trying his best to hide his confusion.  
  
“I’m Joonmyun,” the blond haired man says, extending a hand.  
  
Minseok accepts his handshake and absentmindedly thinks about how warm and soft Joonmyun’s hand is.   
  
“I’ve been in here a lot,” Joonmyun explains, “but I’ve never actually introduced myself. So, hi! Again!” He giggles, and Minseok can’t help but let a genuine smile cross his cheeks.   
  
“You probably don’t remember me because of your prosopagnosia-”  
  
Minseok’s facial features harden involuntarily, and Joonmyun quickly adds, “It’s okay! Don’t worry about it! That’s why I dyed my hair. So you can maybe remember me a little better now.”  
  
Although Minseok sometimes has trouble discerning facial expressions, Joonmyun’s bright grin is unmistakable.   
  
“I-I don’t know what to say,” Minseok admits. He hopes that the smile that he can’t seem to wipe off his face will do the talking for him.  
  
“You don’t have to say anything, Minseok… Except for maybe a yes.”  
  
“...Yes?”  
  
“I haven’t asked you the question yet, silly!” Joonmyun laughs. It’s infectious.   
  
“Alright then, what’s your question?” Minseok asks good-naturedly.   
  
“Do you want to grab a coffee with me?”  
  
How else could Minseok respond, other than with an eager, “Yes!”  
  
Joonmyun’s smile stretches even wider as he asks for Minseok’s number.  
  
Even though Minseok knows that Joonmyun’s face will slip away from his mind as soon as he looks away, he can’t help but desperately try to commit every feature of Joonmyun’s visage to memory.   
  
Before Joonmyun can finish saying goodbye, Minseok stops him. “Wait, you’re wrong. I do remember you.”  
  
Joonmyun tilts his head in confusion, so Minseok continues. “How could I fail to recognize that beautiful voice of yours? You were the one who I found  _Gone Girl_  for, right?”  
  
The blond man nods his head eagerly, and Minseok grins. “It was nice meeting you for real this time, Joonmyun. I look forward to our coffee date.”  
  
Minseok watches affectionately as Joonmyun exits the store with an unmistakable bounce in his step.  
  
“Really, Minseok?” Luhan asks with a scoff. “ _How could I fail to recognize that beautiful voice of yours?_ ”  
  
“Shut up, I’m your boss.”  
  
“I’m your best friend. And best friends don’t let best friends pick up guys using lines straight out of Little Mermaid.”  
  
Minseok pokes Luhan in the ribs, grumbling under his breath about suspending his next paycheck, and Luhan just cackles, promising to tell the rest of the staff about how much of a sap their manager is.


End file.
